


A Different Kind of Pride

by Velace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Top Regina is a lie, the usual crap, tropes galore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-05-20 07:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: Regina takes Emma to meet one of her favourite fairy tales. Emma is not impressed, but the trip isn't entirely a waste.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost a month since I updated anything. You all saw this coming, be honest.
> 
> I got it into my head to write a fic with as many tropes as I could think of. I don't know why. These things happen to me for reasons I will never understand. This is the first five chapters, with who the hell knows how many more to come. Enjoy.
> 
> Also feel free to throw me trope ideas, I'm bound to run out eventually.
> 
> Oh, and there will be another chapter of Angel Undercover in the next couple of days. Not entirely sure when. Half of it is done, but it's smut, so who knows when I'll finish it.

Everything is Emma’s fault. Everything is always Emma’s fault, at least according to Regina. Why she then continues to go on these adventures with her, Emma doesn’t know and she’s too afraid to ask because maybe, just maybe, if she does, Regina will realize it’s a perfectly valid question, think it over, and then actually  _ stop _ and no one, especially not Emma, wants that.

Naturally, that means she has to put up with Regina blaming her for literally everything. Is the sun too bright in the morning? Emma’s fault. Did her meal get cold while she was off fixing her hair and makeup? Emma’s fault. Is someone annoying the shit out of her? Emma’s- well, actually, yeah; when you spend so long being blamed for everything, then you tend to start providing actual reasons for it and Emma is  _ really _ good at pushing Regina’s buttons when she _ isn’t _ trying, but when she is? She’s a practical fucking master at it.

Their current predicament, though? The same predicament Regina is glaring at her for? It isn’t her fault. It isn’t even  _ slightly _ her fault. Regina chose their destination. In fact, she chose every single minute detail down to the very outfits Emma could bring on their trip. Somehow, though, somehow it’s still her fault.

Was she the long lost friend of the King? No. Did she control the weather? No. Did she conveniently go deaf when one of the servants assumed her and Regina were lovers and were shown to a room with only one bed? Again, yeah, but in her defense, Regina had been ignoring her for at least an hour by that point and she was feeling petty, so really; it was Regina’s fault, not hers.

Of course telling herself this doesn’t make Regina’s glare go away. The only real solution to that is ignore it and maybe, if she’s lucky, something will distract Regina from wanting to set her on fire for reasons that are, again, not at all her fault.

She’s  _ real _ good at ignoring Regina if it means she can pretend her friend isn’t mad at her. Instead, maybe Regina is just thinking real hard about something, and that’s why she’s quiet. Maybe that oppressive, threatening silence is just her way of processing her thoughts and she has no idea just how uncomfortable Emma feels while not acknowledging her presence  _ at all _ .

“You’re sleeping on the floor.”

Inwardly, Emma sighs. Outwardly, she rolls her eyes but she doesn’t protest. She’s too tired to argue and besides, chances are; later, when it gets cold and Regina has calmed down a little, she’ll be invited into the bed because Regina will feel bad about being responsible for her potentially freezing to death.

Hopefully.

Tugging two of the furs from the bed onto the floor, she plops herself down and begins removing her boots while Regina disappears into another room. Once both boots are gone and she’s made her jacket into a makeshift pillow, she lies down and closes her eyes, hands folded over her stomach, fingers laced.

In no time at all, she feels relaxed; the floor surprisingly comfortable for a body that had spent most of the day traipsing through an unsurprisingly uncomfortable desert because the stupid city they’re in is  _ hidden and the entrance can only be seen on foot, Emma. _

Recalling Regina’s snootiness earlier in the day, when she had asked why they didn’t just poof to the dumb city, has her grinning as she drifts off, asleep before Regina returns.

She wakes a little while later. It’s been maybe two or three hours; long enough for night time to really settle in, along with the cold. Almost every part of her feels frozen and her teeth are chattering. It takes her a moment to realize it hadn’t actually been the cold that woke her, but the finger poking at her shoulder. When she rolls over and frowns up at the silhouette hovering above her, it retreats, silent for mere seconds before there’s a soft, vaguely annoyed sounding sigh and then, the demand.

“Get up here.” 

Blinking sleepily, she slowly drags herself up from the floor and clambers into bed, too tired to question anything as she’s suddenly engulfed in warmth, fur and body wrapping around her, leeching away even the memory of cold.

“Tell anyone about this,” Regina murmurs close to her ear, “and I’ll shave off all your hair and glue it to your feet.”

Smiling to herself at the image her mind conjures with the threat, Emma closes her eyes and burrows deeper into the warmth with a mumbled, “Kay.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

They don’t talk about it in the morning, which is fine. It isn’t as though Emma had enjoyed waking up in Regina’s arms. It’s not like she pretended to be asleep when she woke up because she didn’t want it to end. She definitely isn’t thinking about it and hoping it happens again when Regina rudely elbows her in the side and asks her if she requires medication for the constipated look on her face.

Emma playfully tells her to fuck off, and Regina playfully punches her for it- only it’s not all that playful because Regina is fucking strong for someone so tiny and her punches _hurt_.

Rubbing her now sore leg, Emma scowls. “You’re a bully.”

“And you’re a rude, obnoxious twit,” Regina replies with a look that says  _ don’t even try to deny it, you little shit. _ Emma grins instead and it makes Regina laugh before she shakes her head. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

“Life.” This next look is as close to a  _ what the fuck _ look she’s ever seen on Regina’s face. She thinks she should be offended. “What?”

“It wasn’t the kind of answer I was expecting is all,” Regina reasons with a shrug.

“I’m not always thinking about food, you know.” 

Sometimes. Not as often as one might think given how she eats. As much as Emma loves food, there are plenty of things she loves more. Though, if she’s being completely honest, she’d be lying if she said most of her thoughts didn’t revolve around sex. 

Not that Regina needs to know that.

And, although her answer had been a lie, she is curious. “What were you expecting?”

Before Regina can answer, a woman wanders over to them to enquire if the  _ lovebirds _ would like a drink. Emma, after hearing the term, decides that yes, yes she would like, and snatches a glass from the woman’s tray, downing the whole thing in a single gulp.

She grabs another before the woman scurries off, no doubt afraid of bursting into flame beneath the intensity of Regina’s death glare. Emma chuckles, sympathizing with the woman as she downs the second drink, already feeling the warm buzz of the first.

It isn’t until she glances her way, that Regina speaks. “That,” she says, “for instance.”

Emma smirks, understanding immediately. “Why would I be thinking about that? I’m flattered anyone could think I deserve someone like you.”

The way Regina’s eyes widen is comical, though Emma can’t quite figure out the why of the matter, looking away as she contemplates the thought. Why does it surprise Regina? After everything they’ve been through, everything Regina has done to make amends for her past wrongs; everyone loves her so much now. They’d reinstated her as  _ Queen _ for christs sake, surely the fact she feels- not  _ exactly _ the same as everyone else, but close enough to it, shouldn’t be surprising.

“I think perhaps you shouldn’t drink any more.”

It’s teasing; the tone. When Emma chances another look at her, Regina is also wearing a small smile. Her eyes are no longer wide, but warm and just a little bit amused. Emma rolls hers despite her own amusement. “I’m not drunk.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m not,” she insists. “Seriously, whoever you do end up with better damn well be grateful, otherwise I’ll beat the shit out of them.”

“Like you almost did Robin?”

She grimaces. She’d hoped to never hear that damn name again. And she  _ would _ have beaten the shit out of him had they not had an audience when Robin decided to get drunk and try to proposition Regina at her coronation.

“He embarrassed you in front of everyone we know,” she reasons. “He deserved worse.”

Alas, she’d only managed to punch him once the next day before Regina appeared out of thin air and put a stop to it. She never did ask why Emma had punched him. She did, however, ensure Emma hadn’t broken anything in the process.

“And your mother wondered why I wanted you in charge of my guards.”

Emma snorts as she recalls Snow’s outrage when Regina had suggested it. Fortunately for her, it hadn’t been her mother’s decision. “You’ve always said she’s a little slow.”

“Mmm,” Regina hums, then inclines her head. “We’re being summoned.”

Peering over in the direction she gestures, Emma groans and rises slowly. “Next time you promise to introduce me to a disney character, remind me to be sick that day.”

Lashes fluttering as she stands, Regina grins. “And here I thought you liked pussy,” she teases, turning on her heel and sauntering away with a laugh when Emma’s mouth falls open.


	3. Chapter 3

Mufasa sounds nice, his voice all silky and smooth, but the content of his conversations leaves something to be desired. Had Emma not spent the entirety of it thinking about Regina’s comment, she’s fairly confident she’d have fallen asleep; a fact Regina is no doubt aware of given the way she continues to side eye her every now and then.

Emma tries to ignore it but she feels it every time and sometimes she’ll feel herself start to grin, which earns her more elbows to the side. She’ll most likely have some seriously bruised ribs come tomorrow morning.

For someone who hates it when she complains, Regina sure is great at giving her reason to do so.

It’s a good, distracting thought for all of a few minutes before she returns to pondering the meaning of Regina’s earlier comment. Well, kind of; the meaning is pretty clear, but of all the things Regina could have said? Why that, specifically? Does she know? Is she aware of Emma’s feelings, or was it simply something throwaway- something to make Emma aware of the fact she knows about her preference for the fairer sex despite the fact Emma has never actually told anyone.

She’s not exactly a closet case, but she’s always been of the opinion that if you’re not the one giving her orgasms, then her sexuality is none of your business and while the thought of Regina giving her orgasms is an extremely appealing one, it has, sadly, never happened.

Not directly, anyway.

“He’s gone.” Starting, she slowly turns her head towards the voice in her ear, and raises a brow. Regina grins. “His Majesty is not amused with you.”

“The only Majesty I’m obligated to amuse,” Emma drawls, “is grinning at me right now, so…”

If possible, the grin widens as Regina slides a hand into her elbow. As she speaks, she leads them back to their little corner of the ballroom. “You amuse me so well too,” she says, chuckling when Emma places a hand against her chest, as if touched. “Don’t push it.”

“How can I not?” Emma protests, a touch too dramatic as she continues. “I was just complimented by  _ the _ Queen, who so rarely indulges such frivolous human desires. Should I not feel moved? Does it not make me special?”

“You’re special, alright,” Regina mutters with a backhand to her shoulder and a gentle shove toward her seat. “I’ve changed my mind about you drinking; feel free to drink all you like, pass out, hit your head on the table and  _ never wake up again _ .”

Emma’s pout is genuine this time. “You’d miss me.”

“Perhaps,” Regina replies, giving her a very slow, very thorough once over. “You’re certainly the nicest thing to look at here, but I think I could mourn the loss and enjoy the peace and quiet at the same time.”

Emma grins. It’s so rude and totally something that should offend her, but Regina just admitted she finds her nice to look at and, for some strange reason, she can’t find it in herself to mind the rest.

“I’m beginning to understand all the dresses.”

“You look good in them,” Regina admits. “Very… hmm.”

Tempting as it is to ask her to finish the sentence, Emma bites the inside of her cheek so as to not ruin the moment. With the way Regina is practically devouring her with her eyes, she doesn’t need to ask anything. Besides, if Regina were to actually answer her, and answer her honestly, Emma isn’t entirely sure she’d be able to handle that and Regina’s gaze right now.

She supposes it does answer the question of whether or not Regina’s aware, and what exactly she’d meant earlier.

Emma smiles to herself.

Perhaps her wishful thinking wasn’t so wishful after all.

“Edible,” Regina says after a while.

Emma is certain she mishears her, or that she’s switched conversations and forgotten to inform her of the fact. The certainty is the only reason she doesn’t immediately start sputtering and embarrass herself. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah,” she admits, “but I think my ears might be broken.”

“You’re attractive,” Regina drawls while redirecting her attention from the dancers in the middle of the room. She cocks a brow. “I highly doubt you’re unaware of the fact.”

No, not unaware. It’s near impossible to look good and not know it when you’ve lived in the real world for more than five minutes and it’s usually the first thing about you that anyone even notices. Still; “There’s a pretty significant jump between attractive and edible, Regina.”

Regina smiles impishly. “Is there?”

Staring at her silently, Emma shakes her head. If she continues protesting, she might miss out on something she’s been dreaming about for  _ years _ . If she doesn’t continue, it’ll mean agreeing, and she  _ doesn’t _ . “I feel like I’m digging myself into a hole here.”

Damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t.

“Does my attraction towards you honestly surprise you this much?”

“Well, no.” She’s not stupid or blind. She knows today isn’t the first time Regina has looked at her the way she’s been looking at her. She’s felt the chemistry- the pull, but people can find other people attractive without wanting to _ sleep with them _ . She does. All the damn time. “I just wasn’t aware you want to  _ eat me _ .”

“Well-” Regina sniffs. “-now you are.”

Were it able, Emma’s pretty sure her jaw would’ve hit the floor right then. She’s shocked, and outraged. Mostly outraged, if she’s honest. “You couldn’t have told me this six years ago?”

“I was in denial.”

It’s so offhanded; the way she says it- casual, like it’s no big deal. What is almost certainly a scream sticks in the back of Emma’s throat. “For _ six years _ ?”

Regina gestures dismissively. “More like six months.”

“For-”  _ fuck sakes _ . “You let me get  _ married _ !”

Regina jerks back in surprise, eyes suddenly wide and confused. “I wasn’t aware that I had any say in that.”

“You…” She was going to say  _ didn’t _ , but that’d be a lie. If Regina had approached her two years ago and told her not to marry Killian, she’d have listened. She’d settled, and they all knew it- or had figured it out when she’d gotten the divorce eight months later. “I need a drink.”

A lot of them.


	4. Chapter 4

Head lolling to the side at the sound of the door to their room opening, Emma smiles, drunk and seconds away from falling asleep, but alert enough to appreciate the sight of Regina after a few hours apart.

“Still not talking to me?”

She frowns. “I wasn’t,” she tries to argue, but the words stick in her throat as Regina begins to undress in front of her. It’s quick since Regina uses her magic for most of it, and she doesn’t see a whole lot, but it’s enough to make her mouth dry- and fill her head with a particular set of familiar thoughts.

“Wasn’t?”

Snapping out of it, she blinks. “Huh?”

Regina purses her lips, though even drunk and out of it, Emma can still plainly see that she’s trying not to smile. “You weren’t talking to me?”

She wrinkles her nose. Her leaving the ballroom had nothing to do with not wanting to talk or wanting to avoid Regina. She hadn’t wanted to make a fool of herself in front of their host or any of the other guests when the sad excuse for alcohol being served finally managed to get her drunk. “I wasn’t  _ not _ talking to you.”

A brow rises, high in disbelief. “So what were you doing?”

“Drinking,” she drawls.

“While not talking to me.”

She sighs. She wasn’t even in the same room anymore, and it wasn’t as though she’d told Regina not to follow her, but she supposes Regina does have some kind of point. Probably. “Yeah.”

Nodding, Regina crosses the room and takes a seat next to her. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

A hand slides across her knee and squeezes. “Then why.”

Leaning closer, she drops her head to Regina’s shoulder and closes her eyes. There were a number of reasons she could think of, but only one of them was bothering in the moment, and had ever since Regina’s revelation. “Five and a half years,” she murmurs.

Regina slips an arm around her. “Yes?”

“We could have been having sex.”

Regina chuckles. “That’s why you chose to get drunk? What you’re unhappy about?”

Emma opens her eyes and raises her head. “Aren’t you?”

Smiling wryly, Regina guides her head back to her shoulder. “Maybe a little,” she admits, running a hand through her hair.

“Do you still-”

“Yes,” she interrupts before Emma can form the question in its entirety.

“Oh.” Emma breathes a sigh and closes her eyes again. “Good.”

“Not tonight though.”

“No,” she agrees, stifling a yawn, then stating the obvious, “Tired.”

She feels the soft press of lips against the top of her head and hums. “And drunk,” Regina teases.

There is that, though she could point out the fact she’s fully aware of everything that’s happening, and more than capable of providing her consent. Regina wouldn’t be taking advantage, and even if she were, Emma wouldn’t mind in the slightest.

“That too,” she mumbles instead because while she would be okay with it, maybe Regina would be uncomfortable, and maybe that’s the point.

With another chuckle, Regina gently bumps her head against hers. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Emma whines. She _ just _ got comfortable. “Why can’t I sleep here?”

“You don’t want to sleep with me?” Her mind briefly goes blank. Like an idiot, she’d completely forgotten they were sharing a bed. Regina laughs quietly, likely seeing the pout Emma can feel sprouting. “Come on, Princess; come and keep me warm.”

Well, when she puts it like  _ that _ .

With Regina’s help, Emma gets to her feet, sending a silent prayer to the Gods that their bed is so close by when Regina pushes her on to it only seconds later. Regina clicks her tongue. “I suppose you’re too tired to dress in something more appropriate?”

“Mhmm.” 

Not really, but she’s still not close enough to sleep to forgo her curiosity over what Regina might do to get her ready for bed.

She gets an answer almost instantly as Regina helps her back to her feet. Hands trail down her sides, giving her hips a firm squeeze before continuing towards the hem of her dress. Her lids flutter in pleasure, enjoying the sensation of soft hands slipping beneath her dress, fingers hot against her skin as they begin to tug it up along her body.

“I confess this has been far easier than I imagined it would be,” Regina murmurs. “I’m not entirely sure I like it.”

Emma opens her mouth, confused, but words fail her when the dress is suddenly yanked up over her head and thrown to the floor. “I’ve often fantasized about having to fend off your hands and mouth while trying to get you naked,” Regina continues, “And here you are, submissive and sleepy; just letting me have my way.”

Emma bites her lip, confusion clearing as she tries to prevent a grin. Regina tsks. “I see you find my suffering amusing.” Emma shakes her head and Regina pouts, hands returning to her hips, breath warm against her mouth as she leans in to accuse, “Liar.”

Her gaze drops to dark, red lips but not before Regina’s own drop even further, taking her in with a deep throated hum. “To think, tomorrow morning all of this will be mine,” she purrs, dragging a hand up over her stomach and pressing down firmly. Emma moans softly. “I think I’ll keep you like this, as a reminder of the promise you’re about to make me.”

Swallowing thickly, Emma licks her lips and repeats, “Promise?”

“Mmm.” Tearing her gaze from Emma’s bare chest, pupils blown wide, Regina demands, “Promise me, when you wake in the morning, you won’t leave our bed before I’ve had my fun.”

Breaths suddenly shallow, Emma’s lips part for another moan as heat erupts between her legs. “Keep looking at me like that and I won’t leave your  _ life  _ before you’ve had your fun,” she promises.

Regina, obviously pleased, grins wickedly. “Then you best get ready, Princess,” she drawls, “for a very,  _ very _ long life spent entertaining me.”


	5. Chapter 5

Emma cracks an eye open, somewhat confused as to how she can be hot and cold at the same time. She registers the body fairly quick, which explains the heat, but it isn’t until she opens the other eye and glances down that she realizes sometime during the night, someone had pushed the furs that should have been covering them to the end of the bed.

If she had to guess, she’d assume the person responsible is the woman on top of her, who appears to be wearing less than what she had on the night before.

Apparently, Regina hadn’t been lying about her keeping her warm. At least, Emma hopes that what it means and that they didn’t actually do anything while she was half asleep, because while she remembers everything that happens while she’s drunk, when she’s half asleep, she might as well be comatose as far as her brain is concerned.

Peering down at the face of the woman currently pinning her to the bed, she can’t help but smile. She remembers it all; the ball the King had thrown to welcome them to his realm, the distinct way Regina utters the word  _ pussy _ , and the look she’d received along with it- the conversation, the confessions, the piss-poor alcohol she’d somehow, near the end there, convinced herself wasn’t as bad as she first thought…

The promise.

Her skin prickles at the reminder- and possibly the cold. She flicks her wrist, draping the furs back over them. Regina mumbles into the crook of her neck, though she has no idea  _ what _ exactly. Whatever it is, Regina sounds adorable and a grin spreads across Emma’s face.

“Talking to yourself is a sign of madness,” she murmurs teasingly.

There’s a groan that tickles her throat before Regina lifts her head and blinks sleepily down at her. “I  _ said _ you’re too damn hot for those.”

Emma silently coos as her chest warms with affection. She hadn’t had the chance to deal with  _ sleepy _ Regina yet.  _ So _ adorable. “Yes, well,” she says, stroking a hand down her back. “I was cold, so suffer.”

Regina pouts. “You promised me fun this morning.”

“Uh, waking up with you on top of me, suspiciously almost naked, was fun.”

“Fun for  _ me _ ,” she insists with a smack to her shoulder.

Emma snickers and jokes, “I hate to break it to you, but if sleeping on top of a frozen corpse is your idea of fun, being too hot is probably the least of your problems.”

Huffing, Regina returns to the crook of her neck, burying her face there. “Fun now entails no talking,” she mutters, lips pressed to her throat.

“No dirty talk then?”

Regina’s head snaps up, suddenly looking more alert than mere seconds ago. “Dirty talk?”

“Uh huh.”

Eyes narrowing, she briefly searches her face before questioning, “You can?” Emma bites the inside of her cheek and nods. “Prove it.”

“Uh, well…” She hesitates but when Regina’s expression morphs from suspicion to disbelief, she rolls her eyes and drawls, “I’m not exactly in the right mood yet, Your Majesty.”

“Oh.” Regina blinks and a small grin appears. “Right,” she says, gaze sweeping down from Emma’s lips, to her chest, and back again, the grin widening. “I suppose I should do something about that, then.”

Emma shivers at the tone despite the sudden rush of warmth throughout her body, and then they’re kissing. She’s uncertain who initiates it, but not who controls it; the kiss neither slow nor soft like she’d expected it to be. Regina kisses her hard. It’s the kind of kiss Emma would expect in the midst of an argument when Regina decides it’s time to shut her up, and knows precisely how to do it.

She barely has the chance to process the fact before she feels the teeth at her lower lip. Regina nibbles until it throbs, then sucks it into her mouth and Emma moans, the arousal swift, exploding in the pit of her stomach at the same time Regina begins to move against her, rocking and grinding her hips. 

The very moment Emma feels the hot, wet (generally acerbic) tongue thrust into her mouth, she snaps. Impatience gets the better of her and before she knows it, the cheeks of Regina’s perfect ass are in her hands and she’s flipping their positions.

Regina gasps with the change, but she adapts quickly. The kiss is only broken momentarily before she’s right back at it, claiming- invading Emma’s mouth with her tongue and wrapping her legs around Emma’s waist, trapping and leaving her with no other choice but to surrender to the sensation of  _ too much _ and  _ more _ .

Emma does. Gladly.

Sinking into the kiss, she pushes down with her hips, pinning Regina beneath her as she catches the hand moving along her side by the wrist, and draws it up over their heads. Regina groans and arches her back before willingly giving her it’s twin.

Emma grins against her mouth. She never would have guessed Regina likes to be held down, though she’s more than happy to oblige as she does just that, gripping both wrists in one hand as she caresses down Regina’s body with the other.

Fingers teasing along the hem of her underwear, Regina whimpers and squirms. She breaks the kiss with a soft whine that Emma tries her best to ignore, the growing wetness between her thighs a sure sign that she’s failing.

Kissing, licking and sucking at Regina’s throat, she trails her hand back up, fingers curling over a breast. She tweaks a nipple, earning herself another whimper and a brief, but futile struggle for control as Regina tries to wrench her hands free.

Accepting the fact Emma is stronger than her, she whines, “This is not fun.”

Emma chuckles and shifts, pressing a knee between her legs and exposing the lie for what it is. She flicks the lobe of an ear with the tip of her tongue and questions, “Then why are you so wet?”

Another brief struggle ensues, but it’s weaker than the first and rather than whine, Regina stutters half way through, breath hitching before the sound becomes a long, appreciative moan. Emma grins around her breast and sucks it deeper into her mouth, tongue swirling around the hardened tip and drawing even more arousing sounds from deep within Regina’s throat.

She swallows back a moan of her own when Regina begins to rub herself against her leg, and she raises her head, brow following suit. “Need something?”

Regina glares but she doesn’t stop and her eyes don’t stay open for long, fluttering shut as her chest rumbles with another moan. It is, in all honesty, so fucking hot that Emma doesn’t have the strength or willpower to deny Regina what she’s so obviously craving.

With one last tweak of a nipple, Emma claims her mouth and slips a hand between them. She cups Regina between the legs and firmly squeezes her cunt, silencing the gasp it invokes with her tongue as she tugs Regina’s underwear aside and presses her fingers into the silky wet heat waiting for her.

A few passes over her clit is all it takes for Regina to unravel. Emma releases her hands then, not realizing it’s a mistake until there are nails digging into her shoulder blades and she’s breaking the kiss with a gasp, and sinking her teeth into Regina’s throat in retaliation.

Regina only seems to convulse harder, but the nails disappear and there are suddenly arms around Emma, pulling her down- pinning her to Regina’s body until the release is over and Regina finally goes limp beneath her.

Emma lets a minute or two of silence pass between them before she lifts her head to check she hasn’t accidentally killed Regina, as the woman has so often claimed she would.

She hasn’t.

Regina opens her eyes the moment she moves, and grins. “I’m not a fan of the teasing,” she husks, “but I certainly can’t argue with the results.”

Emma chuckles. If she thought  _ that _ was teasing, then she’s in for a shock when Emma actually finds some patience.  “We’re not finished.”

The grin widens. “I should hope not,” Regina purrs, hands already beginning to roam. “I haven’t had my way with you yet, and there’s still plenty of morning left. I am, however, assuming you have something specific in mind?”

“Well…” Kissing her softly on the mouth, Emma begins trailing a path of licks, nips and kisses down her body. Upon reaching her hip, she grazes her teeth lightly along the bone, then glances up at Regina with a smirk. “They do say breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”


	6. Chapter 6

There is no better feeling, Emma has decided, than the feeling of Regina writhing beneath her- her tongue, specifically. It is truly the greatest thing to have ever happened to her, and something she promises herself will become a regular occurrence. She will do anything, she’d decided, anything at all in order to experience the pleasure as often as humanly possible.

The only downside, which she isn’t entirely certain is even a downside, is that she probably won’t ever be able to think about anything else ever again. 

Regina was so slick- so wet and hot, and _responsive_. Her thighs had clung to Emma’s head, muffling her beautiful sounds as she’d pretty much humped her own way to orgasm against Emma’s face. Emma had been in heaven, delirious with the sheer pleasure of Regina’s taste on her tongue and the ache in her jaw.

It continues to ache, hours later, which wouldn’t be a bad thing at all if she were still trapped between the warmest, smoothest thighs known to man. Unfortunately, during an extremely short respite, Regina had chosen to inform her of another dinner they were invited to, and since they’d been invited by the world’s most boring-est King, there was little in the way of options to decline.

Apparently, informing said King she would rather feast on Regina than at his table would be _inappropriate_ and _extremely rude_. Regina had even called her an ill mannered barbarian for suggesting it- though she’d done it with a grin and a gleam in her eye, so Emma hadn’t been _too_ offended.

It helped that she’d spent the next hour being ravaged by teeth and thoroughly railed with the dildo Regina had pulled out of thin air.

Good ti-

“I didn’t think your attention span could get any worse,” comes the whisper in her ear, interrupting her musings. Her mouth quirks and a warm chuckle sends a shiver down her spine. “Did I manage to fuck you senseless?”

Her stomach clenches at the swear but she shakes her head. “Oh no,” she murmurs from the corner of her mouth. She confesses quietly, “The thoughts I’m having make perfect sense.”

“Is that so?” Tone teasing, she stiffens as a hand finds its way beneath her dress, to her inner thigh. Regina purrs, “And what might those thoughts be, hmm?”

Lashes fluttering, arousal simmering, Emma takes a deep, but silent, breath and relaxes. Rather than answer the question, she responds with one of her own. “Do you think having an audience will stop me from spreading you out over this table and doing exactly what I said I’d rather be doing?”

Breath hitching, Regina moves the hand. Not away, but closer to the apex of her thighs. “Would you?” She whispers, fingers stroking her skin.

 _No_ , but the temptation is there- has been there ever since they sat down. Comparing the food they’d been served to the taste of Regina, she’d been right about which she’d enjoy more. There was no comparison. She honestly wouldn’t be surprised if everything _but_ Regina was now tasteless.

Taking another, much deeper breath, she grabs Regina’s wrist and with little to no thought, summons her magic and transports them back to their room.

Regina gasps and quickly snatches her hand back. “Emma!”

She raises the hand, as though she’s about to take them back, and, unable to think of a better idea than the one that jumps into her head, Emma pounces. Regina squeaks adorably as she stumbles backwards, knees catching the side of the bed before the weight of Emma crashing into her sends them both tumbling down.

“Emma,” she growls.

Getting to her hands and knees, Emma gazes down at her. The surprise is genuine, as is the arousal colouring her cheeks and darkening her eyes as Regina tries to glare up at her. Emma grins, pleased, and kisses her, warmth spreading through her when Regina doesn’t hesitate to kiss her back.

Emma nips her lower lip, soothing the sting with the slide of her tongue before moving on, kissing and nibbling her way along Regina’s jaw and down her neck. She hears the soft sigh of contentment as fingers thread themselves through her hair, and grins once more.

Regina groans the moment Emma moves to her collarbone and begins sucking. “I shouldn’t be encouraging this.” Emma hums to indicate she’s listening but unwilling to stop what she’s doing. Regina chuckles. “You don’t care in the slightest, do you?”

Heading shaking no, Emma shifts to straddle her thighs and cups her breast, fingers playing with an already stiff nipple through Regina’s dress while she takes the other one into her mouth. Regina arches her back with a moan, then stutters on a laugh.

“I’ve created a monster.”

Emma bites gently at her breast before releasing it and raising her head. “This monster would very much like this-” she says, plucking at nipple and dress. “-out of the way.”

Regina cocks an eyebrow. “After this afternoon, I know for a fact you’re more than capable of removing my dress.”

Emma smirks at the reminder. Regina had insisted they needed food to replenish their energy and rather than wait for Emma to refute the fact, she’d gotten dressed and disappeared from their room. On her return, Emma had taken the platter of food out of her hands, set it on the table by the door, rendered her naked with a flick of the wrist, then had Regina up against the door, begging her to let her come.

“Good times,” Emma murmurs as she flicks her wrist and returns the breast to her mouth, sucking on it hard and delighting in the much happier gasp she receives in reply.

She switches breasts after a few minutes, giving it her full attention, licking and sucking, and biting until the want to have other parts of Regina in her mouth become overwhelming, urging her down to where Regina is _weeping_ , the scent of her need intense and practically begging Emma to devour it.

She flattens her tongue and licks a broad stroke from entrance to clit, gathering as much of the delicious wet heat as she possibly can and humming, savouring the taste briefly before swallowing, sighing happily and diving right back in for more.

An amalgamation of sound quickly fills the room; the sucking of flesh and her own pleasured moans joined by the wanton gasps, groans and curses falling from Regina’s mouth.

Spurred on by the sounds, Emma clamps down on the thighs that rise to drown them out, pinning them down as she explores every inch. 

When’s she sucked up every drop of the slick warmth that coasts her mouth and throat, she slips her tongue inside in search of more, and near comes from the welcoming clench of the walls surrounding her. Regina squirms against the vibrations of her moan, then tightens her hold, hips thrusting, back arching as she inches closer and closer to release.

Lost in the rhythm she sets, Emma simply closes her eyes and goes along for the ride, breathing her in- drowning in the sweet scent of her pussy and _loving_ every wonderful second of it. 

“Emma…”

She hums, already accustomed to the sound of her name on those lips when Regina is oh so close to giving her everything she wants.

Finding the stiff little bundle of nerves with her nose, she begins to rub her face up and down Regina’s slit, fingers kneading inner thighs, stiffening her tongue, thrusting in an attempt to get even deeper before Regina cries out and floods her mouth.

A sound follows moments later- something happy and eager. It’s succeeded by a lot of tugging that Emma tries to resist, not quite finished where she is, though ultimately losing the fight as she rises, only to fall against the sweat-slicked body beneath her as Regina pulls her into a kiss that lasts all of a few seconds.

Regina breaks it, her mouth twisted in a grin as she teases, “I’m still waiting on that dirty talk you promised me.”


End file.
